Salvation in Technicolor
by Ruyu-san
Summary: The crowd inches you closer together. You want to push through the people that stand between you to get to him, your salvation in Technicolor. AU,OOC,PG,Hichigo,Ichigo,One-shot,complete.


Beta'd Version Posted 6/30/09 by Axarofflekay!

This story is very abstract, so please don't judge to harshly. "You" is Ichigo and his savior is Hichigo.

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**Salvation in Technicolor**

You witness their rampaging choreography, involuntary steps, and hostile greetings as they stare across the intersection. They take pleasure in anonymity – seeing but unseeing at the exact same moment. Strangers share a lifetime in a single moment, but move on just as quickly. Reactions last mere seconds on the streets because by the time you realize the perfection of the eyes you're looking into, the world takes another dizzying step and you've lost the face you've been looking for all of your life.

The movement of the world makes you sick.

Sharp, unyielding bodies dig deep into your own. They're eroding you away like some pebble on the beach, knocking you back and forth in the crowd, into the gears of the city, pulling and pushing you where they want you to go. Tidal patterns appear as waves of black and white suits that filter and flow into the abysmal depths of the cityscape. The brief scatter of bodies confuses you for a moment as the light flashes a toxic green and the tide recedes and then rushes forward around you.

Like the animal you are, you see only in black and white – or that's how it seems. The color seems to be stricken from this place, this busy sea of conformity and chaos. From the moment you pulled your black tie around your throat you could feel all the color drain from your body, as though it had flowed right out of you and pooled on your beige carpet. Where did the color go? Surely there are other colors besides the sick, acidic green and lipstick red of the streetlights.

You look aimlessly over the figures ahead of you, the sea of bodies continues to pulse and move effortlessly. A few of their misty eyes wander to your face and then glance higher to look at your hair; the brightness of your orange locks just may be too bright for this crowd. It's times like these that you're proud of your small show of individuality in this ocean of conformity you constantly find yourself wading in.

You lift your hand and card it though your spiky orange locks, feeling the heavy, firm strands part between your fingers before they pop back up into their usual position. As you look up, hand still threaded through your hair, you see him – all pale skin and electric blue.

You feel depressingly colorless in his presence, even at the distance you are now – so very far away. The man's gloriously white hair spikes in a way similar to your own. As the crowd moves you forward you can see his electric blue jacket and the rust color of his jeans, they bunch up as they reach his ankles, and white high-tops peek out from beneath the folds.

You've never wished so hard for someone to look at you.

His sly, confident eyes scan the crowd with a disinterested gaze, his head turning slowing in observation.

A tall woman briefly steps in front of you, just as his eyes were about to meet your own and you nearly scream in frustration and disappointment. The man comes into view again and you sigh in relief as your eyes finally meet. You hold each other's gaze, smiling all the while.

The crowd inches you closer together. You want to push through the people that stand between you to get to him, your salvation in Technicolor.

He must have noticed your need because he begins to dodge and shuffle through the crowd around him, moving ever closer to you.

You break eye contact with your colorful stranger to take notice of your surroundings. The black of your business suit blends in with the others around you. The people around you seem lifeless and imprisoning, noticing nothing of importance, only their own location, if they even care about that at all. But you are nothing like them. You want to break free.

Taking a deep breath, you push through the crowd, ripping your jacket off and dropping your useless briefcase.

Your hands reach out to push open a path and for a panicking moment you lose sight of him. He appears again as you shove a larger man out of the way, bruising your fists on his hardtop briefcase.

The closer you get the more detail you can see. His eyes blink open to reveal golden irises. His cheeks hollow as he blows a dull pink bubble, popping it and sucking it back in with ease.

A thin blond woman whines as your elbow connects with her ribs, but you pay her no attention. He's almost there, almost within reach.

The freedom, the feeling of moving against the waves, against the flow is exhilarating. The crowd gathers and parts between the two of you like crashing waves on the beach. Only now you can smell the salt from the ocean, and see the colors of the sunset, when before all you saw was the foam of the waves.

You would be able to hear him now if he spoke. He doesn't, though. He just chews on his gum and smiles his bright smile as if he's waiting on you. And he is, you realize. He's stopped in the middle of the walk, hips cocked to one side while his hands hang idly by his side. Still smiling, still waiting.

About 25 feet from him, you see his mouth move, forming words you can't make out.

"The…green…" You manage to understand.

Several steps away you hear his complete message. "The light is green." You frown at his words. What lights? But you're already beside him, so close the collar of his jacket touches your neck. He's so bright…

"The light is green." He leans in to kiss you, smelling of bubble gum and sugar. You close your eyes…

"The light's green!" You hear someone yell behind you. Your eyes snap open and notice that your colorful man is gone. The black and white crosswalk lies before you in all its striped glory.

You were only dreaming. A few tears pool in the corners of your eyes as you take your first step into the crosswalk.

You know the motion will make you sick.

A hand clamps down over your shoulder, pulling you back as a car flies by. The backward motion of your body sends your briefcase forward and the car hits it, sending it flying into the road with a loud _clack_! Your heart thumps heavily against your ribs as you turn to see the person who helped you.

A pink bubble pops in your face, making you blink in surprise. His eyes are as golden as you dreamed they would be.

"The light is red." He tells you with a knowing smile.

You pull him to you and kiss him, tasting the sweet flavor of his bubble gum.

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